Published: Monday, October 14, 2013 at 12:30 a.m.

Last Modified: Friday, October 11, 2013 at 10:13 p.m.

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Hard times have depleted their numbers as condominiums take the place of tents and RVs. Yet the ones that have survived remain havens for campers looking to find the peaceful quiet that comes with life by the water.

And while the campgrounds all differ, they attract similar types of people and share the ability to provide a lifestyle that some seek at a price many middle-class Americans can still afford.

Waterway Campground, Brunswick County

“I don't care if you're on a bicycle or in a tent, it's all $40 a night,” said Gary “Skip” Skipper, manager of Waterway Campground, near the mouth of the Shallotte River across the Intracoastal Waterway from Ocean Isle Beach.

It's $375 a month for a permanent rental.

Most campers prefer an RV, and the prices are the same.

The 54-year-old with a thick country accent has been the manager here for a year. He rarely wears a shirt and has a dark bronze tan except where flip-flop straps cover his feet.

He lived at the campground for more than 10 years before he took the job as manager and has a nickname for almost everyone.

“That's 'Typhoon Shirley,'” he says of one camper. “Everyone calls her that because every time she visits, she brings the rain.”

He oversees 46 campsites on a small plot of land bordered by thick pine, a dirt road, another campground and the Intracoastal Waterway.

The rules at the campground are simple. Visitors need to stay quiet from 11 p.m. to 7 a.m.

Most keep to themselves anyway, said Mike Robinson, 63. The retired construction worker has spent time at the site since 1991. His wife sent him down from Charlotte to clean their camper.

“The atmosphere is really great. It's quiet,” he said. “No one disturbs each other, and everyone abides by the rules and works together. I can't complain ... .”

Skipper added that there are never problems because “everyone knows everyone.”

It's why once a year, for his extended family, he cooks “a whole hog” along with oysters and clams. The community blocks off a section of the dirt road and fills the driveway with picnic benches.

The residents catch most of the food off the pier, where Skipper said he has seen “more flounder caught there than anywhere else in the United States.”

“It's wild,” he said.

Skipper traveled around the U.S. as a welder before he settled down at the campground. He still has a three-bedroom house in Bladen County, where he lived all his life.

But he doesn't see the need to go back much anymore.

Why would he? From his front porch at the camp, he can see the Atlantic Ocean just over the Shallotte Inlet.

“It's a whole different life,” he said. “And I enjoy the view.”

Blackbeard's Treasure Family Campground, Pender County

The way Russell Keffer sees it, he could lie at home in Benson and suffer or fish the waters that surround the small peninsula jutting out from the Surf City barrier island.

He chooses to fish.

It doesn't mean his back will hurt any less, but at Blackbeard's Treasure Family Campground in Surf City, his RV provides a place to lie down when the pain gets unbearable.

“At least this way I'm not just sitting around thinking I am going to die,” Keffer said.

The retired disabled ironworker came to the campground mostly for the fishing. Plus, it was affordable.

At $3,400 a year, he can park his RV to have a front-door (his only door) view of the Intracoastal surrounding him on three sides and the $500,000 homes across the channel.

Most days, his life consists of strapping a fishing pole to the back of a golf cart and then relaxing. And if the fishing is slow from the shore, he can jump in his boat docked nearby. There's a public access ramp across the street.

At his fingertips are the conveniences of the retirement life he wants at a cost he can afford.

Those who stay at the site make it welcoming, Keffer said. Decorations abound at the campground, including pink flamingo lawn ornaments, green carpet, plastic palm trees and small lawn ornaments.

“And if a storm comes, we just move everything,” he said. “We've only had to pull out the campers once.”

When he isn't fishing, Keffer helps with guests and does chores around the small plot of land. He loves the community, he said.

“We have good people here.”

Water Way Family Campground, New Hanover County

As the white Chevrolet minivan backs a black box-shaped trailer into a camping site at Carolina Beach's Water Way Family Campground, there's no doubt these are seasoned campers.

The homemade home on wheels was obviously outfitted through years of experience by 71-year-old Earl and Linda Michael, of Thomasville.

Like any pair of true campers, Earl explains, they like to be where nature is.

It was not by choice the two landed at this Carolina Beach campground surrounded by thick pine woods and a trailer park. The government shutdown closed the camp near Cherry Point where they were staying and they had to figure out where to go.

It doesn't matter that the camp is in a small wooded enclave just across the street from the Intracoastal Waterway. If they could four-wheel to Freeman Park, away from most people, they would.

“We don't like the private campgrounds,” said Linda Michael. She does most of the talking, since Earl has a hard time hearing. “It's not as pretty here. It's not as secluded.”

But the Michaels like that it's close to the beach where they can go explore, and Linda admits that some private camps aren't so bad.

“As a rule, the people at the private campgrounds are generally friendly,” she says

Earl does the unpacking solo because Linda has had health problems since a bout with breast cancer. Linda looked at him from where she was sitting and said her husband just tags along to make her happy.

“He's good to me,” she said.

Before Linda got sick, they had seen all of the lower 48 states and even traveled to Alaska.

They're both retired. Linda worked in furniture.

“And I used to peddle furniture by the side of the road …,” Earl said, after asking everyone around him to speak up. “I wasn't a very good salesman. I'm not good at lying.”

Earl now works on cars. He's good with his hands, Linda said. He's building a custom hot rod at their home.

But they prefer to be on the road together, where Linda enjoys the time she gets to be a passenger and Earl gets to see the sights.

<p>There are only a few waterside campgrounds left in Southeastern North Carolina. </p><p>Hard times have depleted their numbers as condominiums take the place of tents and RVs. Yet the ones that have survived remain havens for campers looking to find the peaceful quiet that comes with life by the water. </p><p>And while the campgrounds all differ, they attract similar types of people and share the ability to provide a lifestyle that some seek at a price many middle-class Americans can still afford.</p><h3>Waterway Campground, Brunswick County</h3>
<p>“I don't care if you're on a bicycle or in a tent, it's all $40 a night,” said Gary “Skip” Skipper, manager of Waterway Campground, near the mouth of the Shallotte River across the Intracoastal Waterway from Ocean Isle Beach.</p><p>It's $375 a month for a permanent rental.</p><p>Most campers prefer an RV, and the prices are the same.</p><p>The 54-year-old with a thick country accent has been the manager here for a year. He rarely wears a shirt and has a dark bronze tan except where flip-flop straps cover his feet.</p><p>He lived at the campground for more than 10 years before he took the job as manager and has a nickname for almost everyone.</p><p>“That's 'Typhoon Shirley,'” he says of one camper. “Everyone calls her that because every time she visits, she brings the rain.”</p><p>He oversees 46 campsites on a small plot of land bordered by thick pine, a dirt road, another campground and the Intracoastal Waterway. </p><p>The rules at the campground are simple. Visitors need to stay quiet from 11 p.m. to 7 a.m.</p><p>Most keep to themselves anyway, said Mike Robinson, 63. The retired construction worker has spent time at the site since 1991. His wife sent him down from Charlotte to clean their camper.</p><p>“The atmosphere is really great. It's quiet,” he said. “No one disturbs each other, and everyone abides by the rules and works together. I can't complain ... .” </p><p>Skipper added that there are never problems because “everyone knows everyone.”</p><p>It's why once a year, for his extended family, he cooks “a whole hog” along with oysters and clams. The community blocks off a section of the dirt road and fills the driveway with picnic benches.</p><p>The residents catch most of the food off the pier, where Skipper said he has seen “more flounder caught there than anywhere else in the United States.”</p><p>“It's wild,” he said.</p><p>Skipper traveled around the U.S. as a welder before he settled down at the campground. He still has a three-bedroom house in Bladen County, where he lived all his life. </p><p>But he doesn't see the need to go back much anymore.</p><p>Why would he? From his front porch at the camp, he can see the Atlantic Ocean just over the Shallotte Inlet.</p><p>“It's a whole different life,” he said. “And I enjoy the view.”</p><h3>Blackbeard's Treasure Family Campground, Pender County</h3>
<p>The way Russell Keffer sees it, he could lie at home in Benson and suffer or fish the waters that surround the small peninsula jutting out from the Surf City barrier island.</p><p>He chooses to fish. </p><p>It doesn't mean his back will hurt any less, but at Blackbeard's Treasure Family Campground in Surf City, his RV provides a place to lie down when the pain gets unbearable.</p><p>“At least this way I'm not just sitting around thinking I am going to die,” Keffer said.</p><p>The retired disabled ironworker came to the campground mostly for the fishing. Plus, it was affordable. </p><p>At $3,400 a year, he can park his RV to have a front-door (his only door) view of the Intracoastal surrounding him on three sides and the $500,000 homes across the channel.</p><p>Most days, his life consists of strapping a fishing pole to the back of a golf cart and then relaxing. And if the fishing is slow from the shore, he can jump in his boat docked nearby. There's a public access ramp across the street.</p><p>At his fingertips are the conveniences of the retirement life he wants at a cost he can afford.</p><p>Those who stay at the site make it welcoming, Keffer said. Decorations abound at the campground, including pink flamingo lawn ornaments, green carpet, plastic palm trees and small lawn ornaments. </p><p>Keffer has everything he needs here – a bed, food, friends and cable TV. </p><p>“And if a storm comes, we just move everything,” he said. “We've only had to pull out the campers once.”</p><p>When he isn't fishing, Keffer helps with guests and does chores around the small plot of land. He loves the community, he said.</p><p>“We have good people here.”</p><h3>Water Way Family Campground, New Hanover County</h3>
<p>As the white Chevrolet minivan backs a black box-shaped trailer into a camping site at Carolina Beach's Water Way Family Campground, there's no doubt these are seasoned campers. </p><p>The homemade home on wheels was obviously outfitted through years of experience by 71-year-old Earl and Linda Michael, of Thomasville. </p><p>Like any pair of true campers, Earl explains, they like to be where nature is.</p><p>It was not by choice the two landed at this Carolina Beach campground surrounded by thick pine woods and a trailer park. The government shutdown closed the camp near Cherry Point where they were staying and they had to figure out where to go.</p><p>It doesn't matter that the camp is in a small wooded enclave just across the street from the Intracoastal Waterway. If they could four-wheel to Freeman Park, away from most people, they would. </p><p>“We don't like the private campgrounds,” said Linda Michael. She does most of the talking, since Earl has a hard time hearing. “It's not as pretty here. It's not as secluded.”</p><p>But the Michaels like that it's close to the beach where they can go explore, and Linda admits that some private camps aren't so bad. </p><p>“As a rule, the people at the private campgrounds are generally friendly,” she says</p><p>Earl does the unpacking solo because Linda has had health problems since a bout with breast cancer. Linda looked at him from where she was sitting and said her husband just tags along to make her happy. </p><p>“He's good to me,” she said.</p><p>Before Linda got sick, they had seen all of the lower 48 states and even traveled to Alaska.</p><p>They're both retired. Linda worked in furniture. </p><p>“And I used to peddle furniture by the side of the road …,” Earl said, after asking everyone around him to speak up. “I wasn't a very good salesman. I'm not good at lying.”</p><p>Earl now works on cars. He's good with his hands, Linda said. He's building a custom hot rod at their home.</p><p>But they prefer to be on the road together, where Linda enjoys the time she gets to be a passenger and Earl gets to see the sights. </p><p>“It's our home away from home,” Linda said.</p><p>And at least for a few days, Carolina Beach is just that.</p><p><i></p><p><a href="http://www.starnewsonline.com/section/topic9907"><b>Jason Gonzales</b></a>: 343-2075 </p><p>On <a href="http://www.starnewsonline.com/section/news41"><b>Twitter</b></a>: @StarNews_Jason</i></p>